it’s almost april.
almost three months.
nothing has changed,
except my heart
is bleeding more furiously
and my lungs are
dry and tired and dying.

i’m keeping my promise.
but the sweet relief
of having kept it.
and now being released.
you must understand.
i hope you find
the place you want.

i hope i find
the empty
of black, warm, endless sleep.
i tried so so hard,
but you had to know
i was never strong enough.


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